


Dream for Me

by delikitty



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: F/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Shameless Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-17
Updated: 2019-04-17
Packaged: 2020-01-15 13:26:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18499894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/delikitty/pseuds/delikitty
Summary: Katara has a fever.





	Dream for Me

**Author's Note:**

> Unedited

 

A tingle spreads in her stomach. 

Katara wakes up to fire. 

 

It was not the uncomfortable feeling of being buried underneath several thick furs either. No, this stifling heat was  _ burning _ her from within, leaving her gasping into her pillow and sweat trickling down her temple. The flames lick everywhere, but the place where everything feels  _ wrong _ is  between her clamped thighs. 

_ Hot. So hot.  _

 

Katara doesn't pleasure herself often, but when she does it's usually in curiosity or an irritating, mild itch that needs to be occasionally scratched at. When you're traveling with an earthbender that can feel every vibration, an overprotective brother, and a monk-child, you can't really boast of many sexual accomplishments. 

 

But now, Katara feels none of that. Her secret place is practically  _ trembling  _ for...for anything. Katara squeezes her eyes shut and licks her dry tongue against her fingers. When she slides her hand down beneath her loosened wraps, she finds that she doesn't need her saliva because she's drenched anyway.

 

Katara manages to not shout in surprise at her embarrassing state, but she almost does shout when her thumb fumbles at the particular bundle of nerves. It feels good. Better than anything she's done before. The tingles of pleasure that shoot up her toes come with every stroke. Katara almost relaxes when she realizes she can alleviate this fever that shot out of nowhere. 

 

_ There we go,  _ inner-Katara almost croons,  _ we've got this. We can do it.  _

 

Katara settles into pattern she opts for: a swipe over, press a little harder and swipe again. Repeat. 

 

But minutes pass by, and horror punches Katara when the agony multiplies instead of subduing. Her insides clench in disapproval and dissatisfaction. 

 

Katara wants to cry. Nothing is helping. Desperate, she arches her hips towards her hand, fingers grappling towards her slit and sliding past to fumble at her walls, but it's futile. 

 

_ Anything.  _ She'd give  _ anything  _ to ease up the flames that threaten her entire being. A whimper slips out as she speeds up her trembling hands. 

 

“ _ Shh.” _ A voice hushes, the low sound wrapping around her heart like a vise. Katara’s hand stops. 

 

Through the haze of red, Katara is faintly aware of something-- _ someone--  _ laying right behind her, intimately cocooning her with their larger body, hips pressing against her backside and an arm lazily draping over her waist. Warm air puffs against the back of her sweaty neck. Despite the added heat, Katara finds herself arching back. 

 

All at once, hands are everywhere: grazing down the column of her throat, tickling the flat of her stomach. A gentle palm cups the curve of her jaw. The careful ministrations leave Katara gasping and twitching. 

 

_ So hot. So hot.  _

 

“Please.” Please what?  _ Water.  _ That's right. Water is her element. It will help calm and soothe her fires. She needs water. 

 

“I have you,” the voice mumbles, teasing and raspy. If Katara was in any sort of reason left in her mind, she might find the voice… familiar. “I'm here, Katara. Ask and you shall receive.” 

 

“Ask?”

 

“ _ Mm.  _ Why, can't do it? Stubborn girl.”  _ This  _ is whispered into ear. “Well, I suppose this is answer enough.”

 

Then fingers are edging around her wettest parts, tracing lightly against her feverish skin.

 

It's like a bolt of lightning has coursing through her entire body, fizzling through every inch right down to her toes.  Katara jerks and a sound caught between a low sob and a protest emerges. 

 

Her invader laughs cruelly. 

 

“Agni!” The voice sounds amused. “You're soaked to the back of your knees.”

 

Tear pickles her eyes and a real sob does come out. She'll beat the hell out of whomever her tormentor is and then she'll take herself out to end her own misery. She swears she'll do it. 

 

But her mouth has other intentions. 

 

“Please.”

 

It is possible for her voice to sound so weak? 

 

Her stranger kisses her temples, a move that has her being reeling, and then there's shock as she feels him move away. Katara feels herself begin to protest, but for an entirely different reason. 

 

Then the nothing is suddenly filled with something as fingers, much larger and longer than her own, are shoved into her cunt, forcing open untouched, trembling flesh.

 

White. Hot, burning white. 

 

She's screaming, blinded with the tsunami wave of pure, pure unadulterated bliss, as her walls clamp down so tightly around those fingers that she's afraid she'll break them. 

 

Eons later, she stirs from her messy state, eyes blerry and mouth dry. She never felt so satiated before. She turns her head, her mouth open though she had no idea what she'll say, and stops. 

 

Golden eyes stare  back at her, cutting through the darkness of the tent. A hungry, small smile rests on those lips that seemed to always be set in a snarl. Most telling though, is the large, angry scar covering the left side of his face. 

 

_ Zuko.  _

 

She can't speak, can't move. There's something restricting her from stumbling away and yelling for help. 

 

Zuko’s fingers, the same ones that have been inside her, trace along her jaw and rest on her bottom lip. Those golden eyes follow the movement of his hand and they snap up to meet her blue ones. Stern lips soften and stretch across white teeth into what Katara realizes is a grin. 

 

Something in her chest pounds at the unfamiliar sight. 

 

In a series of swift maneuvers, he gather her into his arms, cradling her head with his bicep as he leans in close until their noses almost touch. 

 

“Katara,” he breathes against her tingly lips. The paralysis suddenly lifts and Katara finds herself shifting forward, her fingers reaching to touch his cheek. 

 

Zuko erupts into smoke and Katara wakes up. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> I love comments! They're really good for motivation. ;)))))


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